


Wherever You Go, I Will Follow

by moonlittides



Series: Jonsa Historical Event [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War I, Angst, Battlefield, Bittersweet Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gunshot Wounds, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon and the Starks Are Not Related, Married Couple, Minor Character Death, Nurse Sansa, Promises, World War I, soldier jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 19:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15031988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlittides/pseuds/moonlittides
Summary: When Jon and Sansa married they made one very important vow - wherever one of them goes the other will follow. Determined not to break that vow, even in the face of war, Jon and Sansa are stationed out in the battlefields of France together. However, when they come under heavy artillery and Jon is injured, the harsh realities of war soon catch up to them and the couple are forced to make heart-breaking decisions and break solemn vows.





	Wherever You Go, I Will Follow

**Author's Note:**

> This is my (late) submission for day two of jonsa-creatives 'A Time for Wolves' historical event.
> 
> Some general information before you read: It's set during World War I with flashbacks included so spans from around 1909-1915, as the tags say, there are some descriptions of graphic violence/injury/death and a character death but not Jon or Sansa which is why I haven't tagged it as major character death.

“Okay, okay! Okay, stop!” Sansa pleads through fits of giggles. “Stop tickling me!”

“Only when you say it.”

“I, Mrs Jon Snow will love you forever, Mr Jon Snow.”

Jon sinks back into his pillow. “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I suppose not.” The newlyweds sink back into the mattress and Sansa rests her head on Jon’s chest and traces circles on his skin with her fingertips. “I will, you know.”

“Will what?”

“Love you forever.”

Jon beams and kisses her softly. “You’re my wife now. No matter what happens we will always be together. _Always_. I don't ever want us to be apart."

"Nor do I. Wherever you go, I will follow."

Although, Jon made his vows to her only yesterday, he finds that he cannot stop telling her how much he loves her and how utterly devoted he is to her. "You are the only thing in this world that matters. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Sansa places a sweet kiss on his cheek. "I know you will, my love." She settles down into his embrace and sighs, "I never want to leave this bed."

“I know. We had so many plans, but now the best one seems to be to remain here with you for the rest of our lives. Unfortunately, duty calls and the day after tomorrow I’m expected back at the factory.”

“Then we should make the most of the time we have,” Sansa says climbing atop her husband. 

"I could not agree more."

They giggle gleefully and come together in a passionate kiss, the taste of each other's laughter in their mouths. 

* * *

 

Jon comes to, the memory still fresh in his mind. The Sansa’s laughter is still echoing in his ears and the sweetness of her kiss lingers on his mouth. As he struggles to open his eyes, the memory begins to fade. His body feels heavy, a piercing screech fills his ears and his vision is blurred. None of his senses seem to be functioning, he can scarcely breathe his chest is so tight. He coughs and sputters, and it's his nose that is the first sense to remind him of where he is. The repugnant smell of blood, dirt, smoke and burning flesh is distinct and instantly recognisable. It's as though he's fallen into a nightmare of the worst possible kind, except there is no waking up from this because it is his reality. It is the reality of the world. 

Clouds of dust and smoke circle around him and as Jon clambers onto his knees he spots his friend Theon a few feet away. He crawls over to him frantically, though before he even reaches him, he knows it’s hopeless. Theon’s torso has been blown apart, his insides on the outside, shards of his flesh scattered on the ground around him and his eyes frozen open in terror. Jon has known Theon since they were boys, they grew up on the same street and spent their days playing kerb ball and climbing trees. He wails in anguish, but the sound of gunfire and chaos is so loud that it goes unheard.

Theon is not the first friend that Jon has seen die and will certainly not be the last. As a soldier he has been trained in combat and re-programmed not to grieve, not to feel and to always remain focused on the mission. He believed his training had equipped him to fight on the front-line and that he was prepared to see his friends and comrades die, but he was wrong. No amount of training could have prepared him for the brutal horror and inexplicable violence he has bore witness to. Only today were Jon and his troops stationed at the front-line and already over half of them are dead. Dealing with death doesn’t get any easier. He grows number to it, but the pain and trauma is every bit as soul destroying as it was the first time he saw a man die.

Jon gently closes Theon’s eyes and crawls away from the open space to take cover behind some rocks, remembering the most important part of his training - survival. Jon's weakness has always been that he feels too much. He thought he could take that weakness and channel it into his strength as a soldier, but in moments like this it is impossibly difficult. He pats himself down and searches his body for any injuries or wounds, but finds that he is fine, save a sore head. He scans his surroundings and notices more of his comrades, including his commanders, lying motionless and in pieces on the dusty ground. As the shock slowly begins to subside he suddenly remembers the most important person in his world – Sansa.

Despite the sounds of continuing sound of gunfire, Jon leaves the cover of the rocks he is hiding behind to press on for the nurse’s tent. In only a few feet Jon makes it back to the trenches and uses them for cover, as he weaves his way through the thick mud as fast as his legs will carry him. As a soldier his priority should be to reunite with the remaining members of his division, but Jon's emotions lead to him developing tunnel vision whereby all that matters is finding his wife. 

When he eventually reaches the tent, there is nothing there except a pile of rubble. He prays that he has the wrong location and that he's simply forgotten where the tent was stationed, but notices stray bandages blowing across the ground in the wind. Panic rises in Jon’s chest as he spins around and frantically searches for Sansa. He recalls the warnings from his friends and family of the dangers of being stationed in the same location as Sansa.

“It’ll be too much of a distraction and it’ll get you both killed,” Theon had warned.

But Jon would not listen and neither would Sansa, because they are too bloody stubborn and in love. They made a vow never to be apart and that was a vow they would not break even in the face of war. Jon didn’t realise until now that they were right. On other missions Jon has worried about Sansa, but this is the first time they have come under such hard and prolonged fire. It is also the longest he has been separated from Sansa. Straggles of surviving soldiers begin to shout at Jon to take cover as he aimlessly wonders into the open searching for Sansa.

“You fucking idiot, get down! Take cover!” a voice shouts.

At last Jon catches sight of her. Her red hair is loose and blowing in the wind. She’s tending to wounded soldiers in stretchers as they’re loaded into vehicles to be transported to the nearest hospital. Without any thought for his own safety, Jon sprints forward as fast as his legs will carry him and throws himself into Sansa. The pair make inhuman noises of relief, joy and despair as they grab at each other, having completely forgotten about the urgency of the precarious situation they’re in. Jon looks upon her face for what feels like the first time in a very long time and brushes the hair from her face. Her pale skin is covered with dust and gunk, she has a small gash on her cheek but she is a sight to behold.

“Are you alright? Are you alright?” Jon shouts, desperately.

“Yes, yes, I am fine." When Sansa looks at her hands they are covered in blood. Her eyes go wide in terror. "Are you hurt?" Sansa's eyes and hands frantically explore Jon's body searching for any sign of injury, but the blood isn't his own, it's Theon's. 

"I'm not hurt," Jon shouts. 

More wounded soldiers are being brought in on the backs of soldiers or simply dragged by their arms and the other two nurses rush to help.

"Jon, I have to tend to the wounded. We both have duties to do,” Sansa reminds him.

Jon was foolish to think he would be able to standby and witness Sansa in an environment like this. He can’t bear it. He can’t. As Sansa tries to walk away, Jon grabs her arm and pleads with her to get in the vehicle with the wounded and go to the hospital.

“You will be safer there. Please, Sansa. You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

Sansa stares at him through wide eyes. “Jon, no. I’m needed here. These men need me, _you_ need me. I can’t go.”

A series of artillery lands beside them and takes down a few soldiers that are helping carry the wounded. Jon pushes Sansa back against the side of the vehicle out of the firing line just in time.

“Theon’s dead.”

Sansa’s eyes immediately well up. “No…”

“He was right. We've made a mistake. We shouldn’t have come here together.”

Sansa shakes her head and the tears fall from her eyes. “Jon…”

“I love you too much. It’s too much of a distraction, I can’t do my duty.”

Jon feels a sharp pain in his side and doesn’t realise he’s been hit until he’s on the floor.

“A kit! I need a kit!” Sansa screams.

She rests her hands beneath Jon’s head and lies him down on his back. The world seems to have gone quiet and as Jon stares up at Sansa, time slows. An excruciating burn comes from his abdomen where Sansa’s hands press down on his wound and he can feel the hot stickiness of his blood beneath his back.

“Stay with me, my love. Stay with me.”

 _Always_ , he thinks.

Jon is transported back in time, as memories of Sansa flash through his mind. Five years. Has it really been that long since they had said ‘I do’? It feels as though it was only yesterday. He recalls the first time he saw Sansa. It’s her sapphire eyes that he noticed first and her kind smile. So beautiful. He remembers her long, curvaceous womanliness concealed beneath the pale pink lace gown she wore and how desperately he wanted to kiss her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. He hears the first words she spoke to him, “Excuse me, sir. Is this seat taken?” What would his life look like if she hadn’t sat beside him on the train that grey and rainy autumn afternoon? He recalls every painstaking day that they courted, how desperately he longed to take her hand and kiss her and hold her, but he could not until they were married. In his mind he sees the flirtatious glances she gave him from behind her fan. The first time he kissed her on the day of their wedding – a brief and modest kiss that was perfect in every single way. Most of all he remembers the blissful days, months and years that followed their wedding day – picnics in the park, reading in front of the fire, singing hymns at Sunday Service, eating Sansa’s homemade lemon cakes and long mornings in bed. He recalls the vow they made the day after their wedding, the same one they made the day war broke out - "Wherever you go, I will follow." He treasures all of it. Every single moment with her has been heaven.

“Jon? Jon? My darling, please, open your eyes. Open your eyes, Jon,” Sansa’s voice brings Jon to.

He finds Sansa’s blue eyes amidst the chaotic battlefield and summons the strength to reach out to stroke her face.

“You have to go to hospital.” Sansa turns around and begins to call for help from fellow soldiers and nurses. A minute later, Jon is being hauled over the ground in a stretcher and into the back of a vehicle. Though he is still in pain, he notices that his body is growing numb and cold. Sansa continues to care for him and he hears her soothing voice, although he cannot decipher what she’s saying. It’s not long before he drifts off into unconsciousness, having lost too much blood to remain awake.

When Jon next opens his eyes he’s lying in a bed in the hospital. The moment his eyes fall upon Sansa his body sinks with relief and he attempts to sit up to get to her.

“No, darling. Don’t try to move,” she says softly, reaching her hand out to lay him back down.

Jon tries to speak, but his throat is like sandpaper.

As though reading his mind Sansa asks, “Do you need water?” She reaches for the jug from the side, pours a small cup and brings it to his mouth. He gulps it desperately, streams of it running down his beard and onto his chest. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.

“Would you like more?”

Jon nods and Sansa pours a second cup. When his thirst is somewhat quenched Jon manages to say the only words that matter. “I…I…I love you,” he croaks.

Sansa bites her lips and descends into tears, falling forward onto him, her head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Oh, Jon,” she weeps. “I thought you were going to die. I thought—I couldn’t bear it—If you had died you would have taken me with you.”

“Don’t say such a thing.”

Sansa leans up from him and scatters kisses across his face, tracing her fingertips across his skin as though she’s trying to etch every line of his face into her memory.

“Why did you come? What about the wounded soldiers on the battlefield?” Jon asks.

“I couldn’t leave you. I could never leave you.”

Jon hangs his head.

“What?” Sansa questions, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Jon, what is it?”

“We were fools to think this war wouldn’t come between us.”

“But—”

“I know we vowed it never would and to make sure it didn’t we promised wherever one of us went, the other would follow, but we can’t. Not anymore.”

Sansa leans back from him and shakes her head.

“This is _a war_ , Sansa. I don’t think I truly realised that until today. I thought I could fulfil my duty to my country and have my wife too, but some things are more important than love. You said so yourself, you have a duty and so do I.”

“You’re injured. You’ll be sent home and I—”

Jon shakes his head. “When I’m well enough I’ll return to the front-line.”

“You are in no fit state to fight.”

“Perhaps not now, but I’ll get better and when I’m strong enough--”

“You took a bullet in your abdomen and lost a lot of blood. An inch further to the left and you would have died. It could be months before you’re strong enough to fight. Jon, I beg of you to see reason. You need rest.”

“I will rest and when I’m better I’ll continue what I started.”

Sansa’s lip trembles. “And what about me? I’m your wife.”

“And that’s why I want you to return home without me.”

“What?”

“A woman’s place isn’t here.”

“Jon, my place is with you.”

Jon feels her words deep in his heart and it makes it even harder to say what he knows he needs to.

“It’s too dangerous for us to remain together. If you wish to continue working as a nurse I’ll ask for a transfer.”

“No,” Sansa protests.

“It’s what needs to be done.”

“You say you love me but how can you love me if--?”

Jon can no longer maintain the façade. “I do love you. Don’t you understand? I’m doing this because I love you too much to lose you. If you stay on the front-line, you will die. It’s only a matter of time.”

“And what about you?”

“My life doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. It’s all that matters to me. You once said that same of me. You said I was all that mattered to you in the world.”

“That’s still true. You are my reason for fighting in this world. I do it so there will be a future for you and I and our children.”

The mention of children takes Sansa by surprise. “You believe we will have children?”

“Yes. It’s all I see when I close my eyes. A little girl with red hair like yours. She will be every bit as beautiful and fierce as you.”

“She’ll have your dark brown eyes and charm.”

“And we’ll have a little boy too.”

“He’ll have your black curls and handsome smile. We shall call him Theon.”

Jon smiles, tears trickling down his face at the memory of his fallen friend.

“And the girl Catelyn after your mother.”

For a moment they lose themselves in their fantasy, but reality soon catches up to them. Jon takes her hand to comfort her. She sighs. “I wish we could go back to the way it was. I can’t see an end to this war.”

“All wars end.”

“And what will be left at the end?” Silent tears roll down Sansa’s cheeks.

“I wish we could both return home and be as we once were, but it’s out of my control. Whether we’re here or at home, we cannot escape this war.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to die, but I can’t leave.”

“I don’t want you to. You’re honourable, Jon. And brave and courageous. If you left, you wouldn’t be the man I married.”

“When I thought you might be dead I didn’t care about honour or duty or bravery. All I could think of was you. When I saw that the nurse's tent had been hit I ran through the artillery without thinking. I didn’t know where I was going or what I was doing I only knew I had to find you.”

Sansa nods, finally understanding. “If that’s true then you’re right. We can’t stay together. I couldn’t bear to lose you, but even worse, I couldn’t live with myself if I were the reason you got killed.” Sansa begins to shake as sobs begin to take hold of her body. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“We’ll write letters,” Jon says wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I haven’t been apart from you since the day we met.”

It’s true. Since the day Jon and Sansa met they were inseparable. Two halves of a whole. The mere thought of being apart from her for months or even years breaks Jon’s heart, but he knows he must stay strong for her.

“The war will be over before we know it.” Jon doesn’t even believe his own lie.

“What if we never see each other again?”

“We will, we will, we will,” Jon says over and over like a mantra, praying to God that he let them both live long enough to see the end of this war. “When this war is over we will do all the things we’ve dreamt of. Except, perhaps we should pass on the Eiffel Tower, since we may be tired of France by that time.”

Sansa laughs lightly and even in these circumstances, seeing it lights up Jon’s world.

“The thought of you is what will keep me alive. I’ll fight this war for you and no matter where you are never forget that you are my wife and I love you. Never forget it. Never.”

“I won’t, I promise. I love you so much and even if you or I are to die, I will still love you. Wherever you go, I will follow, even in death."

It breaks Jon's heart to hear her speak this way, but knows it is a reality they may soon have to face. There are no guarantees in war. It does not distinguish between the saints and the sinners it takes and takes and keeps on taking. Through a chorus of sobs and ‘I love you’s’ the two come together in a frantic, passionate and anguished kiss, uncaring of the eyes of injured soldiers and nurses that are on them.

“Will you return home?” Jon asks her.

Sansa shakes her head. “I’m sorry, darling. As long as there is war I must be here.”

It’s the answer Jon expected. Just as she knows him well enough to know he wouldn’t abandon his duty and honour, he knows the same of her. She’s every bit as fierce as he is and to ask her to return home would be like asking her to give up who she is.

“You do understand, don’t you?”

Jon nods and takes her hand in his, kissing her wedding ring. “Our men need you. It would be cruel injustice to take away the most talented and brave nurse England has ever known.”

“Oh, stop it,” Sansa replies, modestly. “I shan’t leave until you’re well again.”

“Are you sure that’s best?” Jon wants to spend as much time with Sansa as possible, but fears the longer they remain together, the more painful it will be when they have to separate.

“I vowed to love you and care for you in sickness and in health.”

Jon smiles and tells her he loves her for the thousandth time.

“Is it against the rules for a nurse to lie in bed with her patient?”

“I believe we broke all the rules with that kiss,” Sansa grins.

“In that case…” Jon shifts over and pats the mattress next to him.

Sansa closes the curtain around his bed for privacy and though it causes him immeasurable pain to even breathe, it’s worth it when he feels Sansa against him. Warm flesh and beating heart, Jon appreciates these few moments of silence and let’s his eyes fall shut.

He dreams of the little girl he and Sansa spoke of, with cascading red locks and eyes so dark it’s like looking in a mirror. She runs through the long grass of the fields, squealing as Jon chases her. Sunshine streams upon them emphasising the rich shades of green and yellow of the fields and trees. Sansa appears ahead, a small boy with a head of dark curls propped up on her hip. He kicks his legs and giggles gleefully as the girl runs towards Sansa and falls at her feet. Her cheeks rosy, her hair up in a bun and loose tendrils hanging beside her ears, Sansa chuckles and the sound of it is like music to Jon’s ears. Out of breath, he steps forward and takes his son into his arms as his daughter shouts, “Again, dada! Again!” Sansa laughs again and leans forward to kiss him softly. “I love you.” “I love you too.”

Jon clings to it with everything that he has knowing it is this one fantasy that will be the source of strength he draws from every day. It is reuniting with Sansa and returning to England to have the family they always dreamed of that will carry him through this war, because it’s that future that he is fighting for.


End file.
